Swan Song
by LeighEm
Summary: He would go down in legend as the hero who saved them, she as the princess who sacrificed for them. But living in a world of peace would perhaps be the hardest difficulty to overcome— a new era where politics ruled over courage. An era where their love would bring down the kingdom. Post Twilight Princess. Link x Zelda.
1. Prologue

_**A/N**: A new season, a new story. Unlike Ephemeral, Swan Song takes place after the ending of Twilight Princess and follows the lives of both Link and Zelda as well as Hyrule's aftermath of the Twilight War. I'm attempting to take a different approach on my writing style, incorporating a more medieval tone and dialect as well as third person narrative. This is a darker tale of what it means to live in an era of peace for our princess and hero, a powerful king planning on taking Zelda for his bride, and a war-scarred Link that needs saving form himself._

_Warning: This story contains mature themes, some sensuality, and violence. I'm keeping the rating T but consider it borderline on M._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Swan Song**

_Prologue_

"Tell me, would you have regretted ignoring your fate more so than accepting it?"

The sun was setting below the horizon line of Lake Hylia, casting flecks of golden shadows across the shimmering waters. Strokes of orange painted the sky like a saturated canvas and the trees whistled with the cool chill of evening wind. Somewhere beyond the blinding rays of sunlight lay the Gerudo Desert, named after a race that had been long extinct, replaced with Moblins and monsters that had claimed the desert as their own. Beyond the endless waste of sand was Arbiter's Grounds. The mirror of Twilight. And even further, through an unpassable veil— its princess.

The hero of both light and darkness pursed his lips in thought, the warm colored hues illuminated his sandy-blonde hair with an unnatural glow. Scars that lined his cheek were accented by deep shadows that were cast by the light, physical evidence as to why his smile never touched his eyes, the hollowness of his laughter, the lifelessness in his voice.

"Nobody has ever asked me such a question before."

He turned to her then. The blue in his eyes was tainted with orange light, muddying the pureness of its color.

"Well Link, Hero of Hyrule, I'm asking you now."

He blinked once then resumed his gaze over the landscape before him. It had been two years. Two years since he buried the blade of the Master Sword up to its hilt into Ganondorf's skull. Two years since the rebuilding of Hyrule. Two years since they said goodbye to Midna.

And it had been an entire year in which he took up his role as the captain of the Hylian vanguard— as per Princess Zelda's request.

Leaving Ordon had been simple, if anything, _gratifying_. The villagers that he had once considered family, the people that had raised the poor orphan boy he had been— were now nothing more than strangers. When he looked at them, all he saw were the questions that dared not escape pursed lips, suspicious eyes that watched him with ill-deserved awe, concerned stares that held pity he did not want. Village life no longer appeased the ravenous beast that had grown inside him, craving the thrill of adventure. Rusl had understood, and he was the only person he had confided in before packing away the few belongings he owned and setting off into the night. He agreed to tell the rest of the villagers what he could not— Link had left upon the Princess' orders and would not be returning. However, he had made a promise to himself that after every lunar cycle, when his castle duties would permit it, he would check in on them. To deliver fresh produce from the market, rare materials sold by merchants only within the castle walls, and to make sure that the nightmares that plagued his dreams had not poisoned the children as well.

It was better this way.

They would be well off without him there, causing unwarranted but understandable tension.

When he arrived at the castle, he had been so positive— so _certain_ that this was the antidote to his madness, the hole that the Twilight War had left within his chest, aching and undeniable. But when he signed Princess Zelda's agreement, the simple parchment of paper that stated he belonged to the government of Hyrule as its leading commander of the Hylian royal army, he felt as though the hole had been ripped anew, transforming him into a ravaged man he no longer recognized. Something that truly terrified him more than even Ganondorf's evil rein had begun to claw at the enlarged void and he feared the day that it would break free.

He turned to her again, overwhelmed by her beauty and the presence that she possessed. So strong, so confident, she masked her pain so very well. But he saw through the guise that she had perfected like polished armor. He saw through it because he felt the turmoil that she suppressed reflected inside of him, in his chest, his mind, his heart.

The nightmares. They were suffocating. He saw them no matter if he were awake or asleep. They played tricks on his mind, confusing reality with grotesque visions of abhorrent creatures, darkness, and blood. Voices told him what he knew but denied, fears that he kept locked away in the dusty confines of his mind. He pushed them away but they always managed to rear their ugly heads when he least expected it.

A hero they called him.

The Legendary Hero of Twilight.

His name had long been lost. A name that had belonged to the innocent village boy in Ordon. The one who farmed pumpkins and herded goats. The one who was capable of maintaining friendships. Of laughing and smiling.

Now he was 'captain', 'my lord', or the dreaded 'hero'.

"Link."

Yes. She truly was beautiful, even to her very core.

"I believe that there is more to life than responsibility, than fate. I just wish that you would believe it too."

She reached out a delicate hand, caressing the scars on his temple and his cheeks. Her touch left behind a warmth that made it feel as though the pain of their existence had never been created in the first place. He closed his eyes, drinking in her comfort as if it were the only thing that was holding him together.

"You can stop being a hero now. The war is over," she spoke softly, hushed whispers only meant for his ears.

He wanted to believe her. He truly did with every fiber of his broken being.

"It's never over, princess. You know that as well as I."

He opened his eyes, awaiting her response but she only stared at him morosely, tears swimming in her eyes because she understood all too well.

"Then pretend that it is."

He felt something inside him stir at her words, something that made the gaping hole shrink a little smaller. Pretend. Like polished armor.

He grabbed her hand in his own, moving it from his cheek to the back of his head and taking a step forward, he closed the distance between them. He rested his forehead against her own, his breathing suddenly labored with anticipation while her body went rigid with surprise. He ran a gloved hand through her long auburn tresses and pulled her close with his other, then before she could back away from his warm embrace, he pressed his lips against hers. Softly at first, then with an increasing gradation of intensity that erased the monsters plaguing their thoughts and the fears that threatened to suffocate them, if only for the time being. She clung to him, hesitantly then with a level of desperation that matched his own as if he were the only thing safe in a dangerous world.

Then it ended as quickly as it started, breathing heavily, Link pulled away, stricken with the realization of what he had just done.

They stood upon a private balcony of Hyrule Castle, and a great wind rose and blew, sending their hair flying into tangled knots and they gazed upon each other with more sadness than a person should be capable of.

That had been the first time he had kissed her.

"Zelda… I apologize," he began hesitantly.

But instead of answering him, she only stepped closer and fixed the distance he had created between them. Touching his brow, her eyes narrowed with concern and remorse.

"Don't."

Then the stillness of the moment was interrupted by the abrupt swinging of double doors leading back into her chambers. A woman dressed in a simple grey apron and skirt looked as though she had seen a poe as she stood in the entranceway, staring at the princess and the commander.

"My Lord, Your Grace, I had no idea that— I didn't—"

"It is quite alright, Lady Ena. We were just bidding each other good evening, weren't we Sir Link?" Zelda smiled politely and had withdrawn her hand, the mask falling back into place. Just as it should be.

Link cleared his throat, folding an arm behind his back and bowing to his midsection. "Your Grace," he shuffled around Ena and exited the chambers, sparing Zelda once last glance before he did so.

"Now then, was there a matter that you would like to discuss? It seems to be awfully late for urgent announcements— oh, don't tell me that Sir Arran preformed sleight of hand again in front of the councilmen, they do particularly dislike his antics," Zelda fretted with exasperation.

Ena blushed, quickly becoming more embarrassed the longer the situation dragged out. "No, Your Grace—"

"Please Ena, we're alone now. There's no such reason for the formalities."

"Er— yes, Zelda. Of course." Cautiously, as if she were expecting someone to appear in the room behind them, she closed the doors and stepped out onto the balcony where Link had been moments prior.

"A letter arrived for you today," she spoke suddenly in a hushed voice. "I was able to snag it before the herald caught wind of it. It bears the Carthalion seal."

It was her last few words that made Zelda's breath catch in her throat, her blood chill like the nighttime air. The sun had set and took its warmth with it. In its place, the crisp bite of the cool wind and the eerie echo of dusk that reminded her of a time that she'd rather forget took up residence. She had grown to loathe the darkness and the demons that it housed within its shadows.

"I… I see," Zelda began, the words caught in her throat.

"I presumed that you wouldn't want anyone else to know about this, please forgive me for worrying you with the secrecy."

Zelda cleared her throat, turning to her maid, "No, Ena, thank you. I appreciate the effort you have gone through for me. I never thank you enough for what you do for me."

She blushed again, "Nonsense. There is nothing I can ever do that will repay my debt to you."

"Do not be foolish. There never was, nor will ever be debt of any kind. Now I command you to get some rest, you look quite exhausted."

The maid chuckled, "Of course. I bid you good night, My Princess."

"Pleasant dreams, Ena. Tell Sir Ivan I say hello."

She nodded with a smile and gently backed through the double doors, closing them behind her and leaving Zelda alone with the harrowing twilight.

She sniffed, wrapping her arms around herself and missing Link's strong arms as she gazed out upon the now shadowed land of Hyrule. How many times had she stared at this same view during her imprisonment? How many times did she wonder if death would be greater than life? In her darkest moments, she had been certain of Link's demise, but it was always the dull hum of the Triforce on the back of her hand that kept her hope alive. She could still _feel_ him, and that was good enough for her.

With a sigh, the princess turned her back on the ill-lit land and into the safety of her chambers. She sat on the edge of her bed, the letter growing heavy in her hands as she stared down at the red wax seal of a dragon— the symbol of Carth. She fingered the corners of the parchment, biting her lip, a thousand thoughts playing through her mind. She knew who the letter was from— the royal seal erased any doubt in her mind, and she dreaded to read his words. After all this time, what could he possibly want?

_So conveniently timed after we pulled ourselves out of a catastrophic war, all thanks to Link and none to him_, she thought bitterly.

That was a valid point. It was no secret to neighboring lands what Hyrule had gone through. Even though all were too cowardly to aid in the battle against the dark magics, they had sent food and materials post war for the victims that had survived.

All but Carth.

He had some nerve.

With shaking fingers and an unsteady heart, Zelda carefully broke the seal and unraveled the letter. Skimming through his eloquently written words, she had to stop herself from tearing it in half, a swell of anger blossomed in her chest like the prelude to a storm.

_Desmond_, she thought angrily, _how naïve do you presume me to be?_

* * *

He had to calm down. He needed to focus.

With shaky breaths, he inhaled the cool nighttime air. He had needed to get out of the stifling confines of the castle, it was becoming too much, but the forest was doing little to ease his troubles.

What was wrong with him? Kissing the now-Queen of Hyrule? Had he gone mad?

With a roar of frustration he slammed his fist into a nearby tree, splitting the skin in-between his knuckle to reveal a thin scarlet line. He winced from the impact but he didn't even feel the pain.

It had been two years since the invasion of twilight and he still could not get a hold of himself. The nightmares had become so visibly tangible that sometimes he was almost tricked into thinking that Ganondorf himself had returned. His condescending smirk, the heated and very raw desire exuding from his eyes like that of a feral beast. Sometimes when Link looked into a mirror he saw that same desire reflected back at him, but this time morphed into his own features. His own blue eyes.

What was he becoming?

An animal?

A confined beast within castle walls?

He shoved his good hand into his satchel at that thought, his fingers twitching.

Just a little while. It can't hurt if it's no longer than a couple of hours.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers playing with the wrapped cloth, slowly working on unraveling it. He knew he should have thrown it away after the end of the war. After all, why would he need it? The fighting had ceased. Peace had returned. There was no room for a beast.

Midna's words came back to him, scrambled in pieces.

_This thing is the embodiment of the evil magic Zant cast on you. It's much too dangerous…_

_Careful Link._

Before she left them she had advised its destruction and Link had given her his word that he'd see to it. Then why did he have it wrapped in folded cloth inside his pocket? Why did he refuse to leave his quarters without it on his person?

_I need it_, he thought to himself.

It was his only means of escape in a life filled with politics and laws. He was trying to play a role that he did not fit, and insanity was the price. He curled the whole of his hand around the small stone and delicately peeled back a corner so that he could feel its dark magic pulsating, calling out to him.

_Yes, just a little while._

Nobody would even notice his absence at this hour. There was still plenty of time until dawn. It would be alright.

He had grown to love the dark shadows of night and the secrecy they provided. His only means of escape, pleasant memories of a time where such happiness was difficult to come by, and the feeling as if Midna was once more by his side. A time when he wasn't so lonely.

With one last trembling breath, he touched the smooth edge of the unworldly stone and welcomed the relieving transformation that first began in his fingertips then spread to the tip of his nose like fire igniting coal. He shrunk down to a third of his size and several pounds lighter. The weight of his clothes and armor had vanished and with it the responsibilities he had as a human.

With a shake of his head, he fluffed his fur, relishing the warmth it provided. He could no longer feel the bitter chill of the cool air nor the pounding in his head. His heart rate had settled and he finally felt the burdensome shackles of his tormenting nightmares lift. He was free once again.

As the wolf— _he_ was in control. No one told him what to do or when to do it. He did not require armor for protection. He only needed his claws and his teeth. Simple. Straightforward. Just how it should be.

When he had transformed for the first time back on the bridge of Ordon after crossing the veil of twilight, he had been frightened and overwhelmed with uncertainty. All he had wanted was the return of his human form, to wield a sword, to walk on his two feet again. To _speak_. But now he reveled in the silence that his wolf-form presented him, his attuned hearing made up for what he could not say. And really, that was all he needed. To hear the songs of the birds, the trickling of water, the rustle of leaves in the wind, the beating hearts of his prey— all maximized to a crisper and clearer volume. His human ears obscured all the little noises that were blurred together in one blanketed white noise of the forest.

How could something so wonderful be so dangerous? Why did it feel so wrong every time he snuck away to run through the plains of Hyrule on four legs instead of two?

Suddenly, his ears perked at the high pitched squeal of a squirrel, or had it been a rabbit? Whatever it was, it made Link lick his lips in anticipation. It had been a while since his last hunt. The castle had made it quite difficult to sneak away as of late, the duties of Commander of the Hylian Royal Army were anything but trivial.

With a renewed surge of elation he hadn't felt in far too long and a howl to boot, he took off into the darkened woods that only a wolf would be able to navigate his way through.

_Just for a little while._


	2. One

**Chapter I**

"How are we expected to rebuild an entire country when over half of our men were slaughtered? Forgo the scutages already! We must all pay our dues!"

"Hyrule's economy has not taken such a blow since the Imprisoning War over a millennia ago. And you conclude that we should fret over the scarcity of labor, _Sir Kendrick?_"

"We are taxing the townspeople gold that they do not possess, Minister Vinscent! Nearly the entire country is in poverty and yet we rip the rags from their frail bodies, how long will this continue?"

"What kind of fool would consider bringing up such a trivial matter in times such as these—"

"Minister Kendrick, Vinscent, Rhys— silence!"

Princess Zelda stood abruptly from her seat at the end of the long council table, strands of hair falling loose from her pristinely braided locks. Her eyes narrowed in frustration and her breathing was short and abrupt with anger. She was quite simply tired. Tired of being a nursemaid for grown men whose jobs were to merely advise her, and she had reached her limit for the day. Ever since the events of the Twilight War and the plethora of problems it had presented in its wake, their egos had grown twice their size and the weekly council meetings had turned into a competition of whose sword was sharper— masked only by the politics of Hyrule.

The squabbling had ceased and each minister gazed upon their princess with startled silence. She made eye contact with each one of them before proceeding— a gesture to further prove that she would no longer tolerate their fruitless bickering. To her left sat Timothy Wolfric, her royal advisor for all affairs, next to him sat Hyrule's appointed Bishop, distinguishable by his shock of red hair and white robes, Sir Rhys Felstead. Further down the table were the seats of the Keeper of Coin and the Keeper of Seals, Sir Vinscent Donnelly and Sir Kendrick Murdoch respectively. Continuing on the right side of the table sat Sir Godrick Baldor, Hyrule's Chancellor and Minister of Foreign Affairs, then finally Sir Link as Lord Commander of the Hylian Army and his advisor and Minister of Military Affairs, Sir Arran Tredony.

"As I'm sure you're all quite aware, rebuilding a broken country does not happen in a fortnight, nor in one summer. We are all doing our parts in repairing Hyrule to her former glory one step at a time, but only one step. Do you understand? This is a very precarious situation in which one wrong move will open the floodgates and render all of our efforts thus far _futile_. Now at least _pretend _you all are full grown men with high ranking positions and councilors of a country and express your concerns _one at a time._" Zelda let out a deep exhale of breath, thoroughly concluding her declamation and put her fingertips to her temples in an effort to relieve the tension.

The room had grown still with a pregnant silence that only amplified the distantly wretched call of guays through the ceiling-tall windows. The elaborate curtains that they were dressed with proudly bore the Hylian insignia of the Triforce. Oil prematurely burned in copper lanterns that hung along the walls, as it was still midday and the sun's rays streamed through the panes of glass. It wasn't until Zelda resumed her seat that Godrick cleared his throat and the silence was shattered like a sudden clash of steel.

"Your Grace, have you given any thought to seeking outside help from our allied countries? Such as Westeria or Flaghorn?"

Zelda nodded, thankful for his civility, "Yes, Minister Baldor, I'm glad you brought this to our attention as it is an issue I intended to share with you all."

Taking another deep breath and purposely avoiding Link when making eye contact, she continued, "I received a letter of the upmost confidentiality yesterday— from King Desmond of Carth."

The council room filled with a buzz of exclamations, murmurings, and ill-natured scoffs.

Zelda raised her hand, attempting to regain order once more, "Ministers, as I am sure you are aware, this is no fickle matter, and I intend to deal with this as swiftly as possible."

"Your Grace, have they finally decided to aid with the restoration of Hyrule? After all we've done for them, their silence has dragged on for far too long and has now put our liege alliance in a controversial position," Godrick stated.

Zelda frowned, "I'm afraid that is why this issue proves to be a difficult one, he did not outright say as such but instead requested my audience," she paused, "in Carth."

Another uproar broke out amongst the councilmen, this time not as restrained.

"This is absurd!"

"Our princess put in harm's way for an audience that they do not deserve?"

"Your Grace, you cannot possibly—"

"Silence!"

An abrupt stillness fell over the council chamber for the second time and Zelda pursed her lips in thought, deciding carefully upon her words.

"I have already made my decision, and I understand why most of you are outraged, but for the sake of Hyrule I will be traveling north to Carth per King Desmond's request."

The outbursts that she had been prepared for were never uttered, instead the silence dragged on well past her last word. Godrick looked stricken and torn between arguing his opinion and respecting his princess, Advisor Wolfric seemed as though he swallowed a sour deku nut, Kendrick kept his head bowed in troubled thought, while Ministers Rhys and Vinscent were contrastingly unperturbed. Then lastly, she finally allowed her eyes to stray, but Link was not even looking at her. Instead his gaze was focused on one of the tall council room windows that provided a remarkable view over the eastern mountains, his expression unreadable.

"I believe that this is a wise decision, Your Grace. Not only will we be able to negotiate for the resources that Carth can provide but hopefully mend the tension that infringed upon the alliance well before the Twilight War," Vinscent spoke up, a coy grin smoothing over sharp features.

Zelda's eyes narrowed only slightly, deciding on whether to react to his subliminal mockery on a decision made nearly a decade ago.

She smiled tightly, "Yes, Minister Vinscent, that would indeed be ideal, however, any animosity that remains lies solely upon King Desmond as I have already attempted to come to terms with him. As far as we know, there could be other reasons pertaining to their inactivity within our alliance."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, but when you say 'inactivity' do you perchance mean to say 'standing idly by while Hyrule suffers under the weight of her own people'? That _is _what is happening here, you can paint this picture with whatever pleasantries you wish to the people of Hyrule, but at least give us councilmen enough respect to present us with the truth."

"You'd do well to watch your tongue, Vinscent!"

"Sir Arran, Sir Wolfric— I implore you to take your seats. It is quite alright."

Zelda raised another hand and gestured to her advisor and the Minister of Military Affairs. Arran looked as though he were ready to throttle Vinscent while Wolfric, with bulging eyes to complement, seemed as though he were choking on something.

Considering all of the councilmen in the room, excluding Link as he was a special circumstance, Arran Tredony and Timothy Wolfric were her closest companions. Sir Arran was only seven years her senior, making him a hearty twenty-nine years. He was muscled like a destrier and complete with a mane of luscious chestnut locks that made the noble's wives swoon. Due to his courageous nature, he was favored by her late lord father who attempted to make him Lord Commander of the Hylian Army— much to the king's dismay, a position that he respectfully refused with qualms of his inability to lead. Much later he confided in Zelda that he in fact had no incompetence with leading an army; he merely did not want the heavy burden of responsibility. Fortunately, due to his refusal, they had grown close through adolescence and Zelda had come to view him as a surrogate elder brother.

Sir Wolfric, contrastingly bore a receding silver hairline that he tied at the nape of his neck, a symbol of his years of wisdom and service to the throne— dating back to the days of her grandfather's rule. He was a withering age well past fifty, an abnormality within the kingdom. He gratefully gave his life to the royal family of Hyrule and lived by his oath in serving them.

Arran let out brusque grunt as he sat back and watched as Vinscent delicately folded his hands together atop the table like a maiden at luncheon.

"Minister Vinscent is correct," Zelda began, in which said man tilted his chin with a cocksure smirk, "I am guilty for glossing over the details involving the incident between King Desmond and I so long ago. But I don't do so without reason, and that being the intimacy of the matter, which all of you are aware of regardless."

Zelda redirected her gaze onto the penetrating eyes of Vinscent, "I am not hiding the truth, but rather choosing not to reexamine the skeletons in my wardrobe, if you will. I'd like to believe that the incident is but the past and that King Desmond feels the same. It would be abhorrently bias of him as a ruler of a country to hold on to such resentment in regards to negotiations with an allied country, no?"

The minister was prepared. "Oh, yes, _Your Grace. _But as you know, the incident that you speak of is of much larger scale than you make it out to be and to be quite honest— and I am in no way condoning such behavior— I can understand why King Desmond may feel the way he does."

Zelda felt a vein in her forehead involuntarily twitch. She struggled to control her composure and refrain from leaping across the table in attempt to strangle the man.

"It strikes me curious as to how you would be able to relate, Minister Vinscent. As good-natured as your words are, they do not enlighten me nor do they tell us anything that we already do not know. I may go as far to say that you're purposefully attempting to antagonize me, and therefore this discussion is _over._"

Curiously, Vinscent didn't seem phased by her retaliation, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. Fuel stoking the fire. She noticed the approving smile of Rhys who looked upon Vinscent with a nodding head.

"I apologize if my words have offended you as that was not my intention. Rather, to simply allow us to recall that day several years ago when Princess Zelda unjustly broke her betrothal to King Desmond of Carth and thus resulting in the passive feud between our two countries. Which would not have been a large scale affair, aside from the Princess's selfish decision to indulge in her own personal desires, had Carth not been a fast-growing superpower rivaling only Hyrule itself in all the realm. I would even go as far to say that—"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Everyone seated in the room, including Vinscent himself, jumped at the sudden outburst and all startled eyes were redirected to its source.

Link stood with his palms flat on the table where he had slammed it seconds prior and was fuming with boiling ire, hot as a steaming cauldron, and watched Minister Vinscent regroup himself. It would be the longest silence of the meeting in which everyone stared at the unexpected eruption from the commander, who had until then remained silent.

"If you say one more word, Vinscent, I will drag you to the dungeons myself," Link grit out with a clenched jaw.

The minister's once stunned expression slowly morphed into his characteristic smirk, "Oh, will you Sir Link?"

"That is _My Lord_, to you. And yes, as Lord Commander of the Vanguard and the Hylian Royal Army, I will personally have you escorted at the snap of my fingers, and don't think that just because you're a noble councilman that you will receive special treatment within the cell walls."

Silence.

The call of guays, nearer this time. How so very wretched.

"Councilmen," Zelda suddenly spoke up with trembling emotion as if she herself were on the verge of snapping, "I'm afraid I must cancel our meeting and postpone for the morrow. You may all be excused."

Vinscent was the first out of his chair and made certain to slam it into the table as he did so, eyeing Link until he exited the room. It was only Link, Wolfric, and Arran that lingered behind.

"Link, a word please," Zelda said sharply before he could make himself scarce, "Everyone else, give us a moment."

"Zelda—"

"_A moment, Arran._"

Arran nodded shortly and followed Wolfric, closing the chamber doors behind him.

As soon as the click of the lock was heard and they were left completely alone, Zelda rounded on him.

"What in Hyrule's name do you think you're doing? Threatening a councilman— a _minister_?"

"Zelda, if you for a second think that I was going to sit there any longer, listening to him slander your title as ruling monarch—"

"That is _exactly _what I think. Do you realize the damage that you have done? Not only do you lack the social standing to be making such declarations, but you come from _common blood_, Link. While this may not matter to me, nor Arran or Wolfric, nor the citizens of Hyrule because you are its hero, it _does _matter to others that wield even more power than I. How do you think you will be perceived after this? A ranch hand of the province Ordona that the princess promoted to Lord Commander because of his heroic deeds, has been employed as such for nigh on a year, and then proceeds to _threaten _the Keeper of Coin. You should beholden that you spared the Keeper of Seals your wrath."

Link swallowed thickly, recognizing the truth in her words but still bristling with anger.

"Zelda, I cannot—"

"I know that you _cannot_, Link. But this is not the same world that you're used to— the world where everything is solved with swords and courage. In here," she gestured with her arms at the castle walls, "the same rules do not apply. It is about perception and the dangerous game of ranks and power. While yes, you do have the right to send anyone you see fit to the dungeons— making a minister one of them is _not ideal— _especially on my we understood?"

"Zel—"

"_Are we understood?_"

He swallowed again, defeated with the realization of what he had done and the embarrassment of having to be lectured by Princess Zelda herself as if he were a child.

"Yes, Your Grace."

She blinked at the title and the tone in which he used it. He never called her by her formalities if they weren't in the company of others. She tilted her chin a fraction, keeping her head high. It was better this way.

"You may be excused."

She watched as he turned his suddenly steely gaze away from her and towards the council chamber doors, allowing them to close behind him without care to muffle the noise as he disappeared into the hall.

It was when the complete eerie stillness of silence blanketed over the room that Zelda finally let out a sigh large enough to blow over a stack of parchment. She wearily fell back into her seat at the head of the table and stared at the other empty chairs unseeingly.

_Vinscent, _she thought angrily, _how dare you._

"Princess?"

She turned, prepared to shoo away the unwelcome guest. It would never cease to astound her how difficult it was to find silence in the castle so large with hundreds of rooms tucked away like a maze of stone. But when she caught the eye of the figure in the doorway, she relaxed, no longer wishing upon the quiet.

"Sir Wolfric, please join me," she gestured to the empty seat next to her.

Tucking his coattails underneath him as he did so, Wolfric sat down, gazing out of the same window Link had been earlier with a look of pensiveness about his face.

"Your coronation date fast approaches," he stated thoughtfully.

She sniffed, following his gaze. "Yes, indeed it does."

"Your father once told me that he knew you would grow up to be an exceptional queen," he mused, "and do you know what his reasoning was?"

She stared at him questioningly, her hands delicately folded in her lap.

"Because of your selflessness. Children are selfish by nature, but you never once asked anything for yourself— you were always concerned with others. Time and time again you would question your father when the chef was allowed to eat, when the maids would have _their _chambers cleaned, when he could stop giving orders."

Zelda chuckled despite herself and glanced down at her knotted fingers, "Yes, much simpler times, were they not Sir Wolfric? You do not see me making such ridiculous inquiries now."

"No, why of course not. A queen does not ask questions she already knows the answers to. Instead, you put your people's needs before your own, sparing women and children a life lived in rags amongst the streets," he smiled warmly, the crow's feet around his eyes crinkling slightly, "fighting against the evil that threatened to condemn our country."

Zelda smiled faintly, shying away from his gaze. "You speak too highly of me, Sir Wolfric. I merely did what any just ruler in my position would have done."

"No," he corrected, "any just ruler in this day and age would have turned tail and fled for Snowpeak. Nobles are cowards by birthright, but you have proven to be the gem in a long lineage of rubble." He placed a warmed hand upon her own, squeezing with affection.

"You are an exceptional queen, my lady, and I believe that any decision you make is a wise one."

The princess returned the fond gesture with a smile of her own.

"Thank you, Sir Wolfric."

"I forever swear it to be my pleasure, Your Grace."

Xxx

It was a particularly sunny day in the castle courtyard, located in the rear of the estate. Flowers blossomed with a motely of vibrant colors, painting the foliage with iridescence. Yellow sun burned hot upon paved river and limestone pathways and arches, drinking in the beauty of it. Noblemen and lordlings busied themselves with merriment recreation involving rocks and shields, their laughter echoing from the far walls of the courtyard's reach. Birds trilled their songs high above in canopies of leaves. It was the perfect illustration of a crib tail told to children who were still naïve in the ways of the world.

And Link was having none of it.

He grimaced as he failed to hear the latching of the grand doors behind him and were instead replaced with echoing footsteps that followed him out into the empyrean gardens. He closed his eyes briefly in irritation, dreading the moment the feet would catch up to him.

"Link!"

He continued forward.

"Link, you boorish lummox, would you just wait a damn minute?"

The lummox bit is where he drew the line, he rounded. "Farore, Arran. What is it? Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Yeah, right you are— busy," the soldier scoffed, his shoulder length hair falling across his eyes as he slowed his pace to a stop, "busy brooding, perhaps."

"Brooding? I don't brood," in which Arran replied with a snort. Link gave him a stale stare then turned away, stalking off once more but he was quickly out-paced. "Where do you get off on nagging me? Don't you have something else you can occupy yourself with, like stamping seals?"

"The same could be said for you, _Lord Commander,_" Arran countered.

The two men quickly descended the steps in heated stride, passing by a couple of soldiers kicking a sack of cornmeal between them. The sun was abnormally warm and the air smelled fresh with blooming mums, scarlet like summerwine; summer had broken and winter was well on its way.

"Oh, lay off. Do you have a point in being an annoying keese or is that just something that can't be helped— ingrained in your blood?"

Arran feigned laughter, "Quite the jester today aren't you? Except that's not what I saw back in the council chambers."

Link abruptly stopped for a second time, standing in front of an aged marble statue of the three goddesses intertwining, brilliant cascades of watering shooting from their fingertips and into the fountain pond below.

"What is it that you want to know? Yes, I made myself look a fool. No, I was not in my right mind."

"Oh, but I think you were. You spoke the threats that every soul in that room wanted to make, except for Rhys of course— that damnable vermin. But I find myself wondering, why you?"

Link ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, lips pursed and shrugged. He gazed past Arran at the display of trickling water. "Perhaps I took a page out of your book, taking action when you uncharacteristically did not."

"That's because I'm not masochistic!" Arran stepped forward, suddenly all games put aside. "Even I knew to keep my mouth shut, as much as I it pained me to watch that wormtail open that filthy hole in his face. But you— Link, what in the three goddesses were you thinking? You are a commoner who had been promoted to Lord Commander within a year, a remarkable precedent in the long line of lords, yet it leaves you in a dangerously precarious situation. What will the people think when this gets out? It will spread like wildfire amongst the nobles, they eat this stuff up like fileted cucco!"

A northern wind blew through their hair, a crispy bite that momentarily stole the sun's warmth. The turnover of a season was a fickle thing.

"Of course I know!" he spat back. A couple of noblesmen in the far left of the courtyard cocked their heads, alarmed at the sudden disturbance in a field full of amity. He lowered his voice. "I already received my due scathing from the princess herself before you started to have into me as well. Now are you going to continue to lecture me on etiquettes of court life twice over, or will you leave me be?"

The lordling sighed and ran a hand through his long, tangled hair while Link stared, awaiting the next jeer. But it never came. He began to feel the dull ache of remorse for snapping at the man and looked away towards the sun-dappled valley that would lead down to Lake Hylia.

Arran Tredony. A man too foul-mouthed for his own good but made up for it with his personable charm and wit. There was no doubt about it, Sir Arran was well liked by all whom were graced by his presence, especially amongst maidens. Link, upon accepting Princess Zelda's request to take his place as leader of the Hylian Army, Arran was appointed not only as his advisor but his second-in command. They quickly became fast friends; making farces about castle life behind the backsides of their noble duties, slipping cucco feculence into the other's shoes whilst they slept, even daring eachother to jump the Lanaryu bridge into the icy depths below. They bickered like old women who wringed their hands over handkerchiefs and fought over the last cup of milk poppy, but when it came time to perform their duties of the castle you would have never known otherwise. Just the commander and his general.

"I was under the impression that you and the princess were not close."

His words made Link's breathing hitch, if only momentarily. What was he insinuating?

"And you're correct in assuming so."

"Then why endanger yourself so? You are not as hot-headed as I. If I'm not mistaken, I'd say it was almost as if you took personal offense for Her Grace."

Link's eyes narrowed, uncertain as to how much Arran actually knew.

"She is my princess and future queen, what kind of lord commander would that make me if I did not take offense?"

Arran rubbed a gloved hand casually over his stubble, "Point taken."

Link crossed his arms over his chest and let the cool wind seize control of his golden hair. It was nearly midday and nigh time he began the soldier's regime.

"Enough of this. It's best we head to the barracks and rally the men."

Link turned on his heel, not bothering to wait for affirmation and made his way across the field. But it wasn't the confirmation that he had missed under the lordling's breath— it was his warning.

"I pray for your sake, Link, that you speak the truth."


	3. Two

It was the hour before dawn, in which the sky was a grey haze touched with a glimmer of gold upon the horizon when Princess Zelda left her bedchambers, her hair perfectly braided by Ena, and headed outside. The morning air was crisp and filled with a fog that smelled of budding trees and emerald grass, it clung to her skin light damp silk and she clutched the shawl that she wore around her shoulders with a firm grip. She nodded to the guards that gave her a slight bow or the nobles that murmured, "Your Grace," as she passed by until she was momentarily alone in the maze of gardens on the east side of the castle. She wished that she could linger, as she always did when only fingers of light could be seen in the dark sky, but now she would not allow herself— there was something that she must do first.

When she approached the training grounds, the grass was suddenly sodden with mud, dampened from use, and she carefully maneuvered around towards the mass of men in the center of the field. She sniffed through the chill that came over her when a breeze tangled in her hair and her eyes caught sight of him, his armor gleaming in the faint early morning light. She noticed that the cape that was once attached to the back plate, symbolizing his place as commander, was cast aside, and the corners of her mouth turned into a wry smile.

You can take the man out of the beast, but you can't take the beast out of the man.

She took another step forward, then halted, lingering slightly behind the archway of the entrance. She watched him only briefly, admiring the way in which he trained them with an authority she had never known he possessed as the hero she met so long ago. He had come a long way since then. A boy matured into a man.

Frowning with concern, she watched as he suddenly stepped away from his position at the head of the soldiers. She heard him distantly call out and then nod towards Arran who stood at his side before heading toward the brick outdoor walkway that led to the back of the castle. Cautiously, she followed a respectful distance behind so that he wouldn't hear her, nor be seen by the soldiers on the field.

His footsteps echoed off of the vestibule and she managed to keep hers consciously muffled, a talent she picked up as a young girl, wandering the halls of the castle when she was not permitted. It wasn't until they reached the north side of the castle where an empty courtyard awaited them, soon to be filled with gossiping maidens and slacking soldiers by noon, that she hid herself once more. He stopped abruptly at the fountain of the goddesses that stood just in front of the grand staircase, leading down to the terrace below.

"If you wanted my audience, you could have sent one of your messengers to fetch me, Your Grace."

Her breath caught at the sound of his voice, her face suddenly growing flush with the embarrassment of being caught.

"How did you know?" She asked curiously, stepping forward from the shadows. He didn't turn, but instead kept his gaze on the rising sun in the distance.

"I sensed you the moment you stepped onto the grounds."

She pursed her lips as she drew up alongside him.

"You never cease to amaze me with your warrior's intuition, commander," she remarked coolly.

He turned to her then, golden hair falling across his brow. "Begging your grace, m'lady, I know that you didn't come all this way in the hours of early dawn to shower me with praises. What is it that you want?"

She met her eyes with her own, cool blue boring into the depths of an untamed azure— like eyes of a beast, "How are you faring, Link— truly?" She moved her hand to rest it upon his arm and he followed its path with his gaze but didn't shy away from her touch.

"My apologies, I hadn't realized you'd come all this way not for empty compliments, but idle small talk instead," he responded coldly. He folded his arms across his chest, his jaw taut.

She blinked through the hurt that she pretended didn't exist when he called her by her title or spoke as if he didn't matter to her.

"Link—"

"You know, I took a break from the training regime so that I could catch a breath— _alone. _Somehow, I had a feeling you'd follow me and disrupt my solitude."

She stopped herself from flinching at his icy tone and balled her hands into fists at her side in anger instead, her shawl falling to the ground. The chill no longer affected her.

"Would you stop being a self-pitying fool for one moment? I'm inquiring about your wellbeing because I _worry _for you, Link! It's been a fortnight since we've lasted conversed and I leave for Carth an hour past noon today. If you'd like to continue acting like a child, then that is your choice, but know that I shall be gone for nearly an entire moon turn. If this is how you would like to leave things, then that is your wish."

She turned away from him then, largely to hide the tears that were threatening to betray her perfectly guarded exterior. Zelda never allowed herself to show weakness, yet somehow, Link always seemed to be an exception to the rule. Goddesses curse him.

It wasn't until she felt a sudden touch on her hand, calloused fingers closing around her own, that she halted. The cool wind toyed with her hair and it left sticky wisps clinging to her face but she did not blink, nor did she look at him. She focused her gaze on the trickling water that spewed from the goddesses' fingertips, unseeing.

"Zelda, will you accompany me on a walk?"

She swallowed, debating leaving him there without so much as a word— it's what her pride wanted.

She nodded, turning to him. His eyes stared down at her with remorse, flecks of gold reflecting off of them in the morning light. She would allow herself to be weak, just this once.

After politely handing her back the shawl and linking arms like a proper gentleman should, he led her down the marbled stairwell and across the barren courtyard until they reached its outer gate. She knew where he was taking her, a place where their whispers would not be heard nor would their intertwined arms be seen. She followed him through the maze of foliage that only an animal would be able to navigate their way through and when they emerged on the other side, they were facing the northern bridge that crossed the castle's river. They were concealed here, beneath the canopy of sun speckled leaves and surrounded by the sweet melodies of the birds and whistling flora. It was their secret hideaway, a place Zelda had found during her imprisonment in the castle before she was locked away in its highest tower. A trap door hidden in the keep beneath ten stories of palace walls, it used one of Hyrule Castle's many secret waterways, and it led to a wooden ingress in the ground beneath the bridge— camouflaged by several years' worth of moss and grass. It's where she had attempted to make her escape after Zant had slaughtered her men and left her to rot, to find the hero of legend herself and save what was left of her people. But she had been caught as soon as the veil of twilight descended upon the kingdom and she hadn't even made it to the doors of the keep. The passageway still remained a secret to everyone but herself and Link after their first secret rendezvous nearly a year ago.

"You asked how I was faring," Link began, his gaze on the waters that shimmered like tiny dancing crystals.

She watched as the breeze picked up, sending his flaxen locks into a disarray that covered his eyes. He ran a hand through it, untangling the knots and sighed, turning towards her.

"I'm… concerned for you, Zelda. This audience with Desmond as got me bothered more than I'd like to admit— it has deceit written all over it."

She nodded solemnly and turned away from him, sitting upon a small stump at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the river below. She waited until she sensed his presence near behind her before she spoke.

"I know. I feel it too. I felt it the moment Ena presented me with that accursed letter."

He crouched in front of her. A sudden anxiousness overcame him, a wild look in his feral eyes. He took her hands in his own.

"Then don't go. Nothing good can come of this meeting."

She gazed down at their hands, unable to meet his gaze.

"You know as well as I that I must."

"No, you _don't_. To hell with that damn parchment, he doesn't own you, Zelda."

She gave a frustrated sigh, folding an arm at her stomach and using the other to bring a hand to her lips.

"To hell with that damn parchment," she echoed. "Do you realize that 'damn parchment' is the only thing keep Hyrule and Carth from an all-out war?"

Another sigh and she buried her face in her hands, elbows resting on her knees.

"Would if I could avoid this entire predicament, but I don't have a choice in the matter— Desmond's juvenile grudge has made sure of that." She moved her hands aside, looking at him then with a desperation she had never known. "You see, I'm made to look the villain if I do not comply; the blame of our past animosity put solely on my shoulders."

She stared at him and saw defeat there, in his slumped shoulders and the softness of his eyes. She extended a hand, touching just below his chin with a delicate finger.

"Compassion is your downfall, you shan't let it guide you like a burning flame in the darkness. You'd do well to remember that, Link, Hero of Twilight."

He closed his eyes, drinking in her touch as she moved the palm of her hand across his cheek, brushing away loose strands of hair. His stubble bristled under her soft skin, evidence of his worry. Why did he care for her so? It pained her knowing that her grief was shared, that she no longer bared its weight alone.

She once again was dragging him down with her. A mess that she created. A mess that she refused to allow him to clean up a second time.

He couldn't care for her any longer.

She withdrew her hand and his eyes opened at the sudden lack of contact.

"I must be going. Wolfric is surely wrought with worry over my absence so near to my departure."

He stood with her, reaching for her hand. "Zelda."

She faced him, sadness etched into the way her eyes frowned in the corners.

"Allow me to accompany you, to Carth. I can– I will protect you."

She shook her head. "No Link, your place is here with your men. They need your guidance more so than I. My safety is not a matter you should fret over, I will have Hylian knights with me at all times. Desmond may be a fool, but not fool enough to try something."

A pause.

This needed to end.

She started again hesitantly, "I believe that its best we stop these secret meetings, if someone were to stumble upon us, the rumors that would spread…"

"They won't," he interjected hastily.

"It is only a matter of time, Link. This— this _relationship _we have, must stop. Especially after your performance in front of the council, I'm afraid we no longer have the luxury of carelessness."

He stared at her with that wounded look, the very same one he had worn as wolf with eyes so blue they burned like obsidian, when he and Midna first found her imprisoned in her tower.

Helplessness.

"Everything that I do is for the wellbeing of this kingdom." She stepped forward, removing her hand from his grasp and caressed his face once more. "I will see you again when the moon is full and in the safety of the public."

And then she was gone in a billowing of skirts and sun mottled trees, leaving the hero alone in a glade full of bittersweet birdsong.

* * *

It had been thirteen days since her parting.

Thirteen days and he hadn't made any progress in quelling his desire for the inviting reprieve of the wolf. If anything, the craving burned hotter than it ever had before, deep within him like the churning of liquid iron. It made him ill to be without, to endure each day walking on two legs instead of four, to be shackled to a life structured by laws and formal conducts, to wear a false smile and pretend that he wasn't screaming on the inside.

Zelda had been his only means of amnesty from the burdens of castle life, but without her, there was nothing left to subdue the beast that raged inside him. It clawed at him until he gave in and gladly welcomed the miasmic dark magic that would envelope him in a veil of fur and freedom.

His temper had grown short, rivaling that of a moblin. Not even Arran could calm him down when it got bad enough.

"Farore, Din, and Nayru, Link! What were you thinking back there?"

"Another lecture, Minister?"

"Don't you use that damn title with me, like I'm some pompous aristocrat."

"My apologies, _Advisor_."

"What in the bloody hell are you—"

"You want to know what I was thinking? I was thinking that the Hylian Army is nothing but a poor excuse for a squabble of children playing at knighthood." The fury was upon him then, and nothing was going to stop it. He gesticulated wildly. "During the Twilight War, they_ cowered _in fear, afraid of the beasts that lurked in the night. They abandoned their duties as sworn protectors of Hyrule and they took off for the hills."

"That's because most of them were _slaughtered!_"

"It doesn't matter to me one whit whether their mother was killed right in front of their eyes or their fellow comrade was decapitated in the line of battle— a duty is a duty!"

"And that justifies berating them like animals? To throw their helmets on the ground in disgrace of their title and question their moralities?"

"Well someone has to!" the commander roared and the second-in-command only stared, at a loss for words. He took a deep breath, regaining a sense of control and began again, "I believe that no matter how rigorous I train these men that nothing will change, when Ganondorf comes storming through these gates once again with a renewed sense of vengeance— when he _kidnaps _our princess— those children will sooner wet their pants than raise a weapon in defense!"

The air had grown silent and thick, the echoes of Link's last words clung to the stillness like an invisible coating of fragile glass.

And then it was broken.

"The war is over," the lordling spoke softly.

Link clenched his jaw. "The war is never over, Arran."

How simple, how terribly easy it was for everyone around him to pretend that everything was righted and just. That the snaking tendrils of shadows no longer creeped under their beds, that the darkness that had once swallowed them whole was forever washed away by light, that happiness was as natural as breathing.

Link couldn't pretend— he wouldn't.

He stalked away from Arran and toward the outskirts of the battlements where we would escape from the world that lived in denial, in virtue. But what he didn't notice through the fog of his rage was the stealing shadow of a man who had watched the entire exchange from the safety of a nearby vestibule.

That night, the hero slept in a sitting position on the floor, back against the wall, sword propped up against his shoulder and shield mere inches from his hand— a habit that had formed during his travels where a good-night's rest was unheard of. He never allowed himself to fall into a deep slumber where his senses were no use to him, he had to be aware or it would mean certain death. Even in this era of peace that provided a roof over his head and a personal chamber with a lockable door, Link had never once used the bed at the far end of the room. The maids no longer bothered themselves with cleaning his quarters except for the fine layer of dust that would gather due to its disuse.

If Link had his way, he would have ditched the chambers long ago for the solitude of the forest and a comfortable sleep in a bed of fur. However, he had learned his lesson long ago. He had once escaped to the dark woods when the moon was nigh and the castle's occupants were sound asleep. Upon his return the next morning, he ran head first into one of the soldiers rounding a corner who was more startled by Link's appearance than anything. His hair a midden heap with twigs and dirt, his eyes bloodshot and feral, it was as if the knight was looking directly into the face of a ravaged beast.

The expression of fear that man had worn that day never left his face when he looked upon the commander nearly a year later. Yes, Link had learned his lesson. He had forgotten how frightened Hylian soldiers could be of what they could not explain.

As he slept, nightmares ravaged him and he grunted and groaned silently in the darkness of the room. Nightmares that spoke to him and painted pictures of memories he had longed to forget, shoved into the darkest corners of his mind where they were to never again be accessed. No matter how lightly he dozed, the moment he closed his eyes, they were there. Waiting for him. Beckoning him into their shadowy arms filled with twilight and darkness.

_A hero… _They mocked.

_A pathetic excuse for a hero…_

He grimaced as a tremor of pain with the force of a thousand knives washed over him. He knew where it had come from, what had caused it.

Zelda.

She raised her sword high above her head, floating in the air like a possessed doll. That's all she had been. A weapon for Ganondorf to use at his command— and his disposal.

He wouldn't fight her. He wouldn't.

The powerful blast of magic knocked him of his feet and sent him crumbling into himself on the ground, screaming, writhing in electrifying pain that made his senses go numb. Static crawled along his skin like a current of lightning using his body as a conduct until it reached his head and it rattled him to his core.

Then another discharge consumed him and he felt its impact send him through the air until he met the unforgiving wall and the world momentarily went black.

"_Both of you faithless fools who would dare to take up arms against the king of light and shadow…"_

Then she was there, her caressing touch on his face. Her eyes blue and pure. She opened her mouth to speak but it was not her voice that he heard. It was the deep chortling rasp of sadism that he would never forget. He felt the electricity course through him once more and he screamed.

"_So you choose. And so you shall feel my wrath!"_

* * *

The Princess of Hyrule awoke with a start. They had stopped moving. Stirring with the lethargy of residual sleep, she glanced out of the wheelhouse window and was surprised to see that they had finally made it out of the Rocky Pass. A stretch of land notorious for its extensive summits and rolling valleys that harbored nothing but flint, limestone, and red dirt. It also served as the great hundred mile divide between Valden and Carth. Hyrule was positioned in the western hemisphere of the known realm along with Westeria and Flaghorn while Carth and its neighboring kingdoms Valden and Aldham were barred across the great expanse of the Black Sea that divided the six power kingdoms.

Long before Zelda's great grandfather held the throne, a grand scale battle had taken place known as the Great War, or hitherto known as "the clash for power". It was the bloodiest war in all the realm's history and was the sole reason behind many of the smaller territories' extinction, those that survived had capitulated and were colonized by the dominating kingdom that had defeated them.

In the end, only six kingdoms remained.

The realm had been divided in half, not only by the eroding Black Sea but because of the strife the Great War had caused between the western and eastern hemispheres respectively. Carth and its sister kingdoms considered different ethics and ideals than its western counterpart, they were driven by power and lived by an archaic and animalistic code of law. They believed in survival of the fittest, worshipping strength and scorning the weak, punishable by death. The eastern continent including Hyrule, chose a more civilized method in establishing hereditary monarchies and believed in the protection of their peoples.

Nigh on three millenniums later, the eastern world was no longer a land ruled by bloodthirsty barbarians but had humanized enough to establish hereditary democracies. Per contra, they still retained much of their ancestor's heritage, including their fascination with power. Such was seen in the stark contrast between the dilapidating peasant villages and the golden palaces that seemed to glow like a rubies amongst rocks. They crafted iron strong weapons and built stone walls higher than the clouds atop their yellow desert sands, keeping their royalty safe from endangerment. In the recent decade, due to its prime location amongst the rich mining dirt of the southern lands and the genetically strong bodied Carthalion men, Carth was quickly becoming the eastern superpower.

Hyrule too, had been on a righteous path for supremacy of the western world in recent years, but in place of Carth's brawn genetics they possessed a different kind of gift— magic. The elf-like Hylians did not need the muscularity of Carthalion men to achieve the same result, they were known for their wisdom and tactics. Even though magic was only bestowed upon those chosen by the Goddesses and the royal bloodline, it had been enough to keep the kingdom safe, until the invasion of Twilight.

When Zelda was just a girl, a precedent opportunity arose that had never before been considered due to the strife between the two feuding continents. A new generation had been birthed into the world and it was a chance to begin anew. King Xelfar Algernon of Carth negotiated a peace treaty with King Daphenes Harkinian of Hyrule: the first alliance between the western and eastern world in exchange for the marriage between their firstborns— Zelda and Desmond.

The princess sighed as she gazed upon the sun-kissed dirt that reminded her of barren wastelands and unpleasant visitations. She nauseatingly began to question herself as to why she assumed this would be a good idea. After crossing the Black Sea by ship in a week's time then six by horse, she was beyond the point of no return.

The door of her wheelhouse was opened and the helping hand of a Hylian knight guided her safely to the ground below. The air here was different than in Hyrule, hotter and heavier, not like the clean, cool wind that she was accustomed to. Without the obstruction of her carriage, Zelda was able to now properly appreciate the full size of the grand Algernon manse ahead of her. Built eleven stories high, it would tower well above her Hyrule Castle. She shivered with undesirable memories of her last visit; the very same one Desmond likely never forgot about.

It would never cease to unsettle her, how different Carth was from her western lands. Great crevasses of red earth yawned tall above her head, smoldering in the liquid hot heat. Even though the entire realm shared the same sun, it always seemed like it was much larger and intense on the eastern side of the world. A wild leever buried under the sand dunes dug its way out from underneath a soap tree and burrowed toward a flock of guay that were much to close to her liking. In a split second that she would have missed had she blinked, the leever surfaced its great tentacle-like mouth swallowing one of the plum-colored birds whole.

Zelda involuntarily shuddered once more.

"I am right behind you every step of the way, Your Grace."

She turned to the man that had approached her and forced a smile on her ever-so trembling lips, "Thank you, Sir Wolfric."

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before assuming his position at the side of her entourage. Then the massive bronze doors leading into the entrance of the palace were opened.

"King Desmond Xelfar Algernon of Carth, The third of his Name, we present to you Princess Zelda Daphenes Harkinian of Hyrule."


	4. Three

The room smelled of vanilla, saffron, and patchouli. Exotic spices permeated the air and clung to Zelda's skin as the guardsmen moved aside, perfectly abreast along the walls. Sphinxes flanked the door way and gleamed in the sunlight that streamed from iridescent stained glass windows. Grand pillars made of robust golds and coppers were symmetrically spaced along the central isle way, towering high above her head into an endless expanse of ceiling, all acutely structured to magnify the ornate path leading to an equally ornate throne. And magnify it did.

Zelda steeled her gaze as the man in a black silk cloak and surcoat of crimson satin came into view and the song of the servant's introduction rang out. A dragon with fire protruding from its snout had been worked into his breast silk with navy thread. Zelda recognized the sigil. It wasn't until the voice was nothing more than a fading echo in the great manse that a smirk graced the man's lips.

"My dearest Princess Zelda, it has been far too long. You look simply exquisite as always."

She pursed her lips into a thin line, ever so consciously aware of the tone of her voice, "I thank you for your compliments, Lord Algernon, but surely that is not the sole reason you called upon my voyage across the entire realm and the Black Sea."

The corners of his mouth grew in size and he stood from his throne, his cloak trailing behind him. "Ah, and as clever-tongued as ever. I wouldn't have it any other way." She watched with folded hands as he descended the steps from his plinth and approached her. He smelled of myrrh and sweet lemon. A scent she had long since forgotten and longed to forget again.

He bore the long dark hair of the Carthalion race, neatly tied into an oiled braid down his back, complete with broad shoulders and muscled arms but he did not tower like many of his fellow brothers. Desmond was leaner than most but it did not mean he was to be trifled with, any fool who dared to question that fact would be quickly taught their place. Zelda knew this. His father had been the same.

His sharp eyes betrayed nothing except for the glimmer of golden hues as rich as the palace he resided in, hidden within them was a wealth of ill forgotten memories and rash audacity that Zelda could see through even after all this time.

Yes. After all this time, he still looked upon her as if she were his.

"There really is no need for the formalities, however, my sweet friend. There was once a time when you referred to me as Desmond, or have we forgotten such ancient history?" He took her hand in his own and bowed his head, delicately pressing his lips to her knuckles.

Zelda masked a smile as he met her eyes once more, yet he did not let go. Instead he spoke again, "Come, let us reacquaint ourselves in a much more comfortable setting," then leaned closer to her ear, his voice just above a whisper, "And secluded from our plethora of nosey onlookers." He gave a nod towards the ensemble of Carthalion guards along the walls and Hylian knights awaiting at the entrance.

A sudden shiver tremored through her body like a tidal wave of pimpled gooseflesh and she prayed that Desmond hadn't noticed. She sought out Wolfric's eyes but couldn't locate him amongst the sea of gold and metal. Instead, she caught the gaze of a couple of guardsmen who stepped forth with apprehension. She silently shook her head, dismissing them before a scene was caused and their travels had all been for naught. Then she was whisked away by her hand and behind another set of closed brass doors.

With a click, the entrance to the room latched shut and Zelda found herself in a familiar space that spurred unfavorable memories from younger days. The drawing room, or otherwise known as the room where her father would go to disappear— lost in heated arguments with King Xelfar while Zelda was locked outside in the courtyard with Desmond. A futile attempt to bond as children, Desmond's idea of fun was plucking limbs from whatever creature he could get his grubby hands on while Zelda huddled near the fountain praying for a reprieve. She shuddered at the memories and turned away from his silken cloak, staring out of the grand windows that displayed the vastness of golden sands that stretched for as long as the Black Sea itself until the end of the realm. The room was quite empty save for the short cherry wood desk and matching pair of chairs. The desk housed small knick-knacks and collectibles, many that she remembered from her time in Carth as a child as they were miniature statues of important Carthalion figures. Two golden chess pieces, a king and queen, sat next to each other alongside a bottle of ink and unused parchments. She had no doubt they were authentic. Along the walls were the gold and red banners with the Carthalion insignia of the fierce dragon. Her father had always told her that the Carthalions were proud people much like their animal crest, strong and intense.

"Ah, much better." She felt his presence near her from behind and with it the vapors of sickeningly sweet smells. "I do prefer the comfort of privacy as opposed to a hundred watchful men, especially when it comes to the intimate matter of reacquainting with such a dear old friend. Wouldn't you agree, Zel?"

She swallowed hard and turned to him, a smile small painted on her thin lips. "Yes, Lord Algernon. I do agree."

Another smile that touched the crow's feet of his eyes. His skin bronzed and taut from the years' worth of sun exposure. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them and Desmond cleared his throat, backing away and extending a golden-rimmed chair from the conference desk. "Where are my manners? Please, do sit, make yourself comfortable." He waited for her to politely take the chair from him and acquaint herself before taking his seat across from her, his back towards the expanse of molten desert. The golden hues brought out his eyes and made them gleam with an ethereal glow.

"I was grievous sad to hear about the state of your kingdom, how have you been Zelda?"

She bristled at his words, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. So many errs in his statement that it made her blood boil like the burning sun. She knew what she _wanted _to say; what her pride told her to say. But her mind refrained. She watched as he absentmindedly began to finger the chess pieces as he stared at her.

"Considering— I have fared better," Zelda quipped, her voice tight, then in an effort to save what little face she and her kingdom had left she continued with her head high, "Yet, Hyrule continues to grow stronger with each passing day. Little by little, we shall regain what we had lost and more."

Desmond nodded, setting down the king only to pick up the queen and turn it around in his fingers. A lock of dark, silky hair fell out of the braid that he wore at the nape of his neck and hovered next to his pointed cheekbone.

"Yes, well, as I have always said, a truly prodigious kingdom is not born in a fortnight— or in your case, _reborn_." He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as she felt the heat in her face flare once more with anger. He was testing her. For what reason? To what extent?

"Carth and Hyrule, the eastern and western superpowers feuding since the dawn of time over one measly title that proclaims ruler of the entire realm," he began again, musing as he moved the king next to the queen.

"That is no longer, Lord Algernon. We are now under the first alliance that amalgamated our two nations together," she frowned with uncertainty. The room was suddenly becoming quite warm, stifling even.

"Formed by our lord fathers," he finished, gazing up at her with igneous eyes. "Unfortunately, both are passed and could give less of a care what happens to this blasted realm."

"Yes, but the alliance still stands—"

"_Hyrule_," he started sharply, overriding her, "has fallen, and with it the spools and delicacies that it had to offer Carth. This alliance was erected for mutual benefits of both countries, but seeing as Hyrule no longer wields the right to proclaim the title 'superpower'," he said with laced venom that bit on the end of his words like the hiss of a snake, "well now, this alliance just seems simply foolish now doesn't it?" She watched as he casually knocked the queen over on its side, its clatter leaving a dull echo in the room that resounded with his harsh words.

She spoke carefully, her voice heavy with conviction yet labored with hesitance, "Are you insinuating a _war_, Lord Algernon?"

"I do wish that you would call me Desmond, Lord Algernon was my father," then he gave a small yet dramatic sigh. "No, my dear Zelda. It would be quite absurd to call it a war— the word siege is more fitting. In the state that your country is in, it would take no more than three sun's dawns before Hyrule would be completely usurped by Carth."

She swallowed, attempting to rid of the thick lump in her throat that was making it hard to breathe. His cruel admonition donned on her and the very real truth behind it. "Why?" It was all she could utter in quaking anger. Or was it fear?

He smiled then, a small cocksure smile that reminded her of Vinscent and that prophesied nothing good.

"Do not fret, we are dear sweet friends after all. I would never do such a thing unless provoked. I'm merely stating the facts of the current situation in which we stand," he stood from his chair and folded his hands behind his back, making his way towards the grand window. His silhouette was a stark contrast next to the bright yellow sands. "However, with our fathers no longer in power and Hyrule's most recent ill-fated circumstances, I'm afraid this alliance simply cannot continue."

The room fell silent with the heavy burden of his words. No alliance with Carth? Their generation had finally rid of the ongoing war between them and now…

She would go down in history as the queen who saved them only to ruin them.

"Unless… well, there perhaps might be one other alternative that may save your country just yet."

Zelda grew ridged, dreading his next words.

"We follow through with the engagement that you broke off in childish delirium so long ago, we combine our countries and reign as the one united superpower in all the realm. You will never have to worry about poverty again, and most importantly— you will be protected from any future incidents such as the Twilight War. After all, one peasant boy and a handful of broken soldiers cannot single-handedly protect their kingdom for the thousands of years to come, now can they?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of Link. She did not like the way the words sounded in his mouth when he spoke of him. In fact, she did not like Desmond speaking of Link at all.

"That peasant boy is Hyrule's hero and lord commander of the Hylian army, you'd do well to watch your tongue," she spoke with vehemence then retracted. Per Link's request she made sure to include no mention of the boy in green who stepped forth when no other would in the proclamation that addressed the countries within their alliance about Hyrule's recent tragedy. Instead, the Twilight War was ended by the brave Hylian soldiers that gave their lives in battle and only Hyrule would know of the truth. Much to Zelda's dismay, it's what the hero wanted.

"How… how do you know of him?"

Desmond gave a slight chuckle, amused, "The whisperings of little birds, sweet friend. It should be no surprise to you by now how I know of anything."

She was tired of such chicanery. "You're a fool Desmond, this alliance has put an end to ten thousand years of bloodshed and you wish to nullify it? For what? For your inability to aid us in rebuilding our kingdom? For my refusal of your hand in marriage? All other countries in the alliance, Westeria, Flaghorn—"

"Are simpleminded kingdoms ruled by simpleminded royalty that was passed down to them by blood. There is a reason they fell beneath us. An adequate ruler knows when to assist and when to let the gods carry out justified fate. How do you think Hyrule was able to rank in juxtaposition with Carth? He turned around, facing her once more. "I'll give you a hint— it had nothing to do with the destiny of your goddesses."

She felt something inside her stir at his accusing words. A low growl erupted from her throat, "If you are insinuating that my father secured Hyrule's prosperity through means of deceitfulness and treachery, then you are wrong. That was _your _lord father if you take a care to remember correctly."

He smiled, a small wry upturn of the corners of his mouth, "You know, they speak of your wisdom even on this far side of the Black Sea and yet, for someone that is known to be so wise it's a pity how droll your ignorance can be."

The scrape of her chair along the polished wooden floors echoed loudly in the quiet room as Zelda abruptly stood to her feet, "I've had quite enough of these follies and your backhanded invectives. If this is all you have to offer me after a fortnight's journey across the realm then I shall be taking my leave." She spoke with wavering enmity, ready to break free at the slightest blunder.

"Not your lord father, my feisty princess, — your great lord grandfather."

She stared, her gaze hard and disbelieving.

Desmond began to pace the room, his folded hands remaining behind his cloak and a smug expression on his face. "Do you mean to tell me they don't teach you royals about the history of your own lineage? I am not here to preach to you, Zelda, and I apologize if I have upset you— that was not my intent. However, as soon-to-be queen of Hyrule, surely you must know of the creation of your western alliance with Flaghorn and Westeria."

"What… are you getting at Desmond?" she spoke slowly, hesitantly. "Of course I know how our alliance came to be. We are the western most continent of the world and we united in defense against your eastern counterpart just after the Great War, strength in numbers."

"And how right you are, just like a walking, talking manuscript. It's a misfortune that it's an altered copy." She watched as he assumed a sitting position on the top of the desk, his legs crossed and his hand folded in his lap. His golden eyes were level with her own. "All you said was true except that it wasn't until your great grandfather took the throne that Hyrule assumed its place as the power kingdom of the west."

"You're trying my patience, Desmond. You speak of things I already know and I do not appreciate you attempting to school me on the history of my own bloodline."

He smiled down at his hands, turning a particularly large bronzed ring around on his middle finger. "Alas, the steady climb to power through use of magicks and the divine golden supremacy they told you was merely a mask to hide the most unfavorable truths. It's quite astounding the feats that are accomplished with enchanted influences, a small wonder that a kingdom that was founded on them would learn to live by them, and all of its peoples." He caught her expression and laughed a short hearty chortle, "You Hylians think of yourselves so noble in comparison to Carth– the barbarians— yet _you _are the savages and don't even know it!"

She instinctively flinched backwards, nearly tripping over her chair at his outburst but held her ground. "You are beneath contempt in suggesting such a thing! How dare–"

"Your _honorable _grandfather decided upon this path for your people, not I. Your anger is displaced. He was the one who threatened your western friends, using them as stepping stones, pillaging their lands, and decimating their armies. All using the power of your divined Triforce and erased all memory of the act from the entire western world. It's a shame— the effects of abused magic."

Zelda stood nonplussed, shaking her head and frozen to the spot where she stood. "No…"

"Yes. A prime example as to why magicks should not be confined to one kingdom alone. Power feeds men on bottomless stomachs, never satisfying, until everything in their path is destroyed. But all power has its kinks, and if Flaghorn and Westeria were to realize such a treachery… well, I think you and I both know how that would end. Hyrule no longer has the upper hand and is heavily relying on its allies."

Her mind was racing faster than she could allow and she was having a difficult time in keeping up. She suddenly felt dirty, as if she would never be clean again. "You speak of lies, Desmond. How would you, a king of desert at the end of the realm know the truth behind Hyrule's rise to power over a hundred years ago if not I?"

"It really does sadden me when I realize how much your lord father kept from you, my sweet princess. It was my own grandfather who aided in the effort of usurping those countries, he helped your great grandfather in securing Hyrule's supremacy." He reached across the expanse of the desk and gestured to her, beckoning her closer but she didn't dare move. "You see, Zelda. We are not the bad guys here. Our fathers were not the first to create an alliance between us. Before you ask why a Hylian sought the help of a Carthalion lord, allow me to demonstrate."

She stared, unsure of what to do with herself. Should she flee? His words couldn't be true and she would be damned if she believed them. Hesitantly, she took a step backwards making way for the door but she was unable to remove her eyes away from his penetrating gaze. They seemed to glow brighter than they had before… almost _inhuman_ like those of a beast. Sometimes Link got that look, but never like this. She swallowed and took another step. His extended arm wavered slightly and then she felt it— the invisible shackles that cuffed themselves around her hands, her ankles— she couldn't move. Zelda opened her mouth to let out a panicked scream for her guards that never came and she felt the tendrils of growing heat that started in the center of her body and blossomed throughout her veins like iron cement. She struggled internally but her actions were rendered futile. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

But that wasn't the most terrifying part. No. It was the way Desmond's eyes had become pure orange and as bright as the sun. She tried to look away but her body wouldn't permit it. The heat was suffocating and just as she felt as though she couldn't bare it any longer, she fell to the ground in a gasping heap.

She hadn't noticed the hand on her arm through her sputtering and it wasn't until it lifted her to her feet that she saw Desmond standing before her with a look of sadness touching his eyes. "I apologize, Zelda. I didn't realize the magic would react to you that way, it was only supposed to render you immobile."

"Get. Away from— me!" She coughed, clutching at her throat with one hand and shoving at him with the other. He let her go. She took labored breaths, desperate to regain control and stared at the man with golden eyes and long black hair. "What… what are you?"

He turned away from her again, seemingly unable to meet her gaze and settled with the expanse of the desert before him. "Carthalion. Just as you've always known. But what your father knew and what you do not is that my royal lineage has an ancient power flowing within us."

He paused then met her eyes once more. "The power of dragons."

"But dragons…"

"—Haven't existed for hundreds of thousands of years. I never said we were such, only that my royal bloodline carries a fraction of their power. It is said that the Carthalions were the protectors of such beasts, the only men to walk this realm that were able to control them. You Hylians are not the only beings to wield magicks like you thought you were. Frightening, isn't it? That sense of shared control."

All she could do was gape at him. He wasn't lying, he couldn't be. What she felt…

Why had her father hid this from her?

Why did Carth hide it in the first place?

"Why do you think your father arranged a marriage between us at such a young age? Sure, an alliance between our countries would be quite a feat in itself but to have dragon blood coursing through the future king or queen of Hyrule's veins? Dragon and Goddess-borne blood. Remarkable."

She narrowed her gaze. "What was in it for you and your father then? If your race is so grand and powerful, why bother with the Hylians?"

"Besides your astounding beauty?" he chuckled when she clenched her jaw in aggravation. "Your power. The enchanting Hylian magicks of course— and together, we'd be unstoppable. In turn, you and your people would remain protected— forever." He flashed her another smile and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of orange in his eyes, as searing as fire.

"Now then, about my proposition. The protection of your people and the unification of our kingdoms, or a crumbled alliance and the constant fear of war on your shoulders? What shall you do my dear princess?"

* * *

Vinscent Donnely hated heroes. He hated anyone that was given the title as such. He believed that the word hero was an over exaggerated term that willfully gave a single man all the credit for something good. The one hero he hated the most?

He watched from the shadows of the vestibule as Lord Commander Link sparred with his men on the training grounds. His boiled leather and ringmail had long been deserted in favor for his thin tunic in the late autumn heat. One last day before winter descended upon them. A melody of metal on metal filled the warm air and Vinscent wiped the back of his hand along his brow. He watched as the commander checked a blow then followed up with a clean sweep that knocked the soldier flat on his back.

Vinscent sneered under his breath. What a pompous, arrogant fool he was. Always showing off, flourishing his sword around and called it 'instructing'. Oh, how he _yearned _for the chance to be able to give him a good smack down once and for all— teach him his place as a peasant. He narrowed his eyes. He had to focus, this was no time to allow his emotions to get the better of him. He had a duty to preform, and he intended to finish it.

"That's it for today men, head back to barracks and polish your armor, then you're free of leave," the commander instructed. He sheathed his sword at the belt and gave Sir Arran a clap on the shoulder before retreating through the ground's entrance. Sir Arran, that was another scum of a man that he couldn't stand. His face twisted in disgust.

This was Vinscent's cue and he immediately gave haste a careful distance behind and always concealed by the shadows. The man had absurdly acute hearing, like that of a wolf, and he intended to steer clear of it.

The minister had been following the commander periodically ever since the princess left for Carth. He sent his watchful men to stand vigilant and keep tabs on the peasant boy. As of yet, they had next to nothing of importance. Sword practice by morning, instructing by midday, and night terrors by dusk. However, there had been one peculiar behavior that Vinscent had decided to witness for himself. Nearly every day before the commander retired for the evening, he disappeared into the forest that surrounded the east side of the castle. It wasn't until Vinscent began trailing him from the safety of the vestibule that he took notice of the small black stone in his hand that he fidgeted with like a mesmerizing obsession. The rock was almost always in his left satchel pocket and every time he had pulled it out, the next moment he would vanish behind the thickness of the trees.

Whatever it was, he intended on figuring out its great appeal.

Carefully, he maneuvered along the side of the curtain wall and waited for Link to pass under the portcullis before sliding around the corner. Bright sunlight streamed through the tall archways, yet it left dark obscurities in its crevices. He trailed behind until the commander took a sharp left into the narrow postern door under the barbican tower of the battlements. Deftly, he caught the wooden door with the toe of his boiled pigskin shoe before it could close shut and slipped into its shadows.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness yet as soon as they did he noticed that the footfalls had ceased. In a moment of realization that unfortunately arrived too late, he felt a gloved hand clamp down on his mouth and the cool edge of a blade at his throat.

"If I may be so bold, I'd say that you harbor a deep-seeded lust for me, Sir Donnelly. Watching my every move from my backside, tell me— did you enjoy the show?"

Vinscent gave a tight-lipped smirk under the pressure of the dirk at his throat and waited until the hand moved aside. "Careful, you know what they say about narcissistic lords. If the head grows too big for the crown… well then, they're no longer a lord now are they?" He grimaced as he felt the blade tighten and a forearm resume a position just under his chin, causing him to sputter slightly.

"Truth be told, I'm not too fond of crowns."

"Nor I of males. Now would you do me a kindness and please release my windpipe from your skinning knife?" he wheezed.

"One wrong move and I put this skinning knife to good use."

He felt the hands release him and the minister clutched his throat, attempting to regroup himself. He stumbled back a step until Link came into view. The commander towered above him by nearly an entire foot; height was never one of Vinscent's appealing qualities. His jaw was taut and his eyes were unimpressed but alert, watching his every move like the gaze of hawk on its prey. He swallowed. He missed the sanctuary of his shadows.

"Now, now. We're all friends here. Sometimes I think you forget that we play for the same side."

Vinscent watched warily as Link nonchalantly flipped the blade in his hand, catching it by the hilt each time. "Do we now, minister? Remind me again, which side is that?"

"The good one, of course, as opposed to evil. All things virtuous and just."

Another flip of the knife. Link began to pace around to the left side. "Good, evil, such loaded words. Who's really to say which is what?"

"We don't. Yet, the two cannot mix."

"No, they cannot. But one cannot exist without the other; two sides of the same coin. Just like light and shadow."

Vinscent's eyes never left the twirling blade as Link continued to take measured steps. "I never took you for a man of letters, commander."

"There's a great deal of things that you don't take me for, minister."

He felt the wind rush past his left ear before he heard the dull _thunk_ of its impact on the wall behind him. Before Vinscent could open his mouth to reply, the blade had left Link's hand in one swift movement, narrowly missing the side of his head by the width of his ear. Vinscent hesitantly touched his cartilage and when he drew his finger back, there was thin line of scarlet.

"Allow me to make myself clear," Link spoke brusquely, taking one large stride so that he clearly towered above the smaller man, their chests nearly touching. He could feel his hot breath on his face. "I grow tired of your intrigues and if I so much as catch you within eyeshot of the battlements during my training regimen again, I will make sure to demonstrate the side of me that is truly evil. Think of me as a coin, Sir Vinscent Donnelly, and when you flip me, I assure you that you do _not_ want to land on tails."

The commander stared him down with eyes that were afire then grabbed the hilt of the knife beside his head and stepped back, yanking it out of the wall. "Good day, minister." Then he was gone with a slam of the wooden door and Vinscent was once again left alone in his shadows. As soon as the darkness washed over him, he looked down at the hand that he had in his pocket and smiled.

"Oh yes, it will be a very good day."

For within it he produced the small black stone that the dear commander could never be without. It glowed in the dim room, even through the protection of the cloth that it was wrapped in.

"A very good day indeed."


	5. Four

He had put it in his satchel. He _knew _that he had. He put it in there every day.

With rising panic he shoved a gloved hand into the leather bag only to come up with a couple of blue rupees. He swallowed hard.

_Then where was it?_

Throwing the pouch onto the floor, Link viciously tore through his chambers, upturning the bed that he didn't even use, flipping over the oil lamp that shattered on the ground, and even flinging his armor across the room in frustration. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. He hadn't misplaced it— that he was sure of. With a realization that made his stomach plummet to the depths of Lake Hylia itself, he let out a strangled growl.

It had been taken.

Swiping from Link, much less directly from his person, was no easy feat. The perpetrator would have to catch him unawares and in the heat of a moment. He stared into the full length mirror that stood in the corner of the room and he saw himself, wild and feral. His eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, his hair frazzled and unkempt. He had been searching for the stone all night, craving the freedom that it would grant him. He needed it. He _needed _it.

Another growl escaped his lips but it sounded more like that of a rabid animal rather than a human man. In a fit of fury he struck his fist into the mirror, shattering it into a million shards that twinkled like tiny stars in the night's sky as they rained down upon the stone floor. They left small nicks on him that sprinkled his pale skin with crimson blossoms, but he didn't have a care. He couldn't even feel them.

Then he realized. His eyes widened with perfect understanding clarity and then narrowed when thought of the things he would do to him.

"_Vinscent_," he growled out loud. The name rolled off of his tongue like the taste of undercooked cucoo— bitter and raw. He hastily grabbed his cloak and strapped his sword to his belt before storming out of his chambers and through the courtyard that connected to the main part of the castle.

He shoved past townsfolk, staring ahead of him yet unseeing. Guards moved aside for him mechanically but Link didn't even notice— he would have shoved them aside as well, using his blade if he had to. Nothing was going to stop him. No, not now. He envisioned the minister's rat-like face, wide-eyed and afraid when he found him. He pictured how it would look after he used his fists to rearrange his elongated nose or to break his slimy fingers. Oh, when he finally got his hands on him—

"Link!"

—he would leave him so broken and bruised that he couldn't speak another word—

"Link!"

—mangled and beaten—

"LINK!"

He turned, his fist ready to strike and his breath coming in heated growls but stopped short when he realized that this man was not his intended target. His eyes widened. How did he not know that? Since when had he grown so careless?

"Arran," he breathed, his voice gruff and curt. He didn't have time for this.

"What in the three goddesses—"

"Spare me," Link swiftly turned on his heel and stalked through the castle entrance, a pair of heavily armored guards moving aside as he did so. He heard footsteps fall behind him as the guards allowed him passage as well and grimaced.

"Link, where are you going? What's going on? I've only seen one man wear that expression and he was impaled through the stomach by the master sword."

Link stopped abruptly. His ears were ringing with the pumping of his blood and wasn't sure if he had even heard him correctly.

"Would you just lay off for one damn minute, Arran? Farore, you're worse than my mother and she died when I was an infant. If you get in my way now, I swear—"

"Swear what? Are you going to fight me?"

Link gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. "No, Arran. I won't fight you because you'd be out cold before you could even draw your sword." He attempted to turn back around but the lordling grabbed at his shoulder.

"What in the bloody sacred realm has gotten into you? You need to calm down— look at yourself! Tell me what's going on here before you get your sorry arse kicked out of the castle, or _worse_."

Link stared at him, still seething but averted his gaze to the side and attempted to control his breathing. "This is none of your business, I can't have you involved." He met his eyes, "Now as your lord commander, I order you to step aside."

Arran pursed his lips into a thin line and swallowed.

"_Step aside_, Sir Tredony."

He held Link's gaze until he couldn't any longer then gave a short nod and let go of his shoulder. But before he could storm off once more, Arran spoke, "I came to inform you that the ministers have called for an impromptu council meeting. It is to be held as swiftly as possible in the conference chambers, my lord."

Link stared.

"An impromptu meeting? The princess is absent, for what purpose would there be a meeting without her presence?"

"I was not informed, my lord. Only that all other ministers agreed upon its commencement for urgent matters."

Link ran his tongue along the back of his teeth with a clenched jaw. The ministers all agreed? Was there something going on that he didn't know about? An attack on Hyrule?

Breath caught in his throat and suddenly his anger began to ebb away. What he was feeling now was terror. Gut-wrenching terror.

Was it Zelda?

Wild thoughts that he hadn't allowed himself to entertain began to flood his mind and put a fear in him that he had never known. Gone was the fury he had felt just moments prior as he forgot about the stone and its captor for the time being.

"Then let's make haste, enough idling," Link turned on his heel towards the grand staircase with a confused Arran following behind him.

When the commander and lordling entered the council chambers, all ministers were politely seated and accounted for. Along the left side of the table sat Rhys Felstead with a passive yet subtle sneer on his fair features, Godrick Baldor who looked slightly troubled— his normally auburn curls were showing flecks of grey, Kendrick Murdoch looked as though he would jump right out of his chair at the sudden drop of a quill— he always looked frightened, must be the old age and that wispy white beard of his, then lastly Vinscent Donnelly who's hands were neatly folded into his lap, his trademark arrogant smirk on his thin rat–like lips. What Link failed to notice was that all the ministers had been giving him queer glances, Vinscent was the only one who didn't bother to hide it.

Link clenched a fist at his side and forced himself to avert his gaze and in turn nodded at the three other men at the table. The head chair and the adjacent seat were abnormally empty, their vacancy reminding him of the fears that he was trying so desperately to quell.

As soon as Link and Arran took their respective seats on the right side of the table, Rhys cleared his throat and stood from his chair. "In the absence of Princess Zelda and her royal advisor, Sir Timothy Wolfric, I will be leading today's meeting as the Chamberlain of Hyrule. We were called here on the urgent request of Sir Vinscent Donnelly in regards to validity of a member in Princess Zelda's council."

Link felt his stomach plummet at his words. This had nothing to do with Zelda's safety, yet everything to do with him. Suddenly, he saw it all so clearly. How perfect this situation had been set up.

And how easily he fell for it.

Link watched as Rhys nodded towards the sneering man, "Sir Donnelly." He re-assumed his seat and Vinscent stood.

"Councilmen, I thank you for joining me here today under such short notice and without the customary attendance of our princess. I have been informed by her advisor that they plan to have returned by moon fall tonight and will present to us her decision in King Desmond Algernon's proposal by the morrow. As I am sure you are all aware, he has offered his hand in marriage once more in turn for Carth's promise of security and prosperity for our peoples. I'm positive our princess has made the wise choice."

Link swallowed. No, he was not aware of this. He snuck a glance out of his peripheral to a see a very solemn Arran with a slightly bowed head. Link narrowed his eyes. It seemed everyone _but _he had been aware of this. He stared back at Vinscent, who caught his eye on nearly every word.

"Regrettably, some issues cannot be delayed, even for nightfall I'm afraid. Thus is why I have gathered you all here today." He began to pace behind the table and many of the men had turned in their seats to look at him.

"Our first and foremost duty as councilmen is to advise our princess on what is best for the state and affairs of our beloved kingdom, Hyrule. Sometimes, this includes going against Her Grace's wishes. Alas, that time is now and it is with great regret that I must present to you some troubling truths of one of our own."

With every word he spoke, Link felt as though he was becoming more and more detached from himself as if this were a terrible dream. Another nightmare and any moment he would wake up.

Vinscent's cold, grey eyes bore into his own, "The talk is that our Lord Commander of Hyrule's Army, Sir Link, has been slacking on his duties as a formidable leader for a vulnerable army. Over a year ago, Sir Link ended the Twilight War and sent the evil tyrant Ganondorf to his demise. More's the pity, many a changes can happen within a year and it seems as though Sir Link has grown hard-pressed and reckless from a post-war world. Many soldiers have reported beatings and torture as punishment for losses on the field. Sir Link preys on the weak—"

"You lying piece of—"

"Link!"

Arran was grabbing at him, pulling him to sit back down but the fury was on him and he couldn't be coerced.

Godrick raised his hands, silencing all parties. "Sir Link, _please. _And Sir Vinscent, is this all you have to present to us? The gossipings of noble women and children with no evidence to back your claims? If so, then I'm afraid you have more than wasted our time here."

"I apologize, minister. I do tend to get carried away with my stories," his rat-lips upturned into a politely sly smile. Arran was able to get Link to take his seat. "My point being is that there has been a noticeable change in our commander that presents cause for worry; and it is because of this worry that Sir Rhys and I had decided to observesome of his training regimes with the soldiers."

"You were _spying _on me!" Link barked.

"Only for your well-being, commander. I do hope that you understand," Vinscent gave a sympathetic smile. Link grit his teeth.

"While the reports of torturing and beatings were a little exaggerated, there were definite signs of unwarranted hostility towards his men. But an ill-tempered commander is not why I called upon this meeting."

"Nayru, I should hope not," Godrick yawned.

"After every sundown training session, Sir Link would leave the fields in an agitated state— even sometimes quarreling with Sir Arran. And every time he would disappear into the woods, strangely with no trace of him ever being there."

"If a few arguments and nightly walks in the woods warranted a council meeting for everyone that partook in them then we would be here until our britches were soiled and our corpses filled with flies. Get to the point, Sir Vinscent."

Vinscent gave the minister an irritated look then continued, "It wasn't until the other day when Sir Link cornered me in the back alleys on my daily commute to Castletown, where he held a sword to my throat and threatened my life—"

"These are grave accusations, minister!" Kendrick Murdoch spoke up, his voice raspy and weak as an old man's could be.

"—that I was able to procure _this _from him."

And there it was, in all its glory. The diamond-cut, obsidian stone that only glowed in the shadows. The stone that Midna had given him, the stone that he used to save the land of Hyrule.

Now it was in the hands of a foolish man who couldn't wield a sword if his life depended on it. Yet somehow he towered above Link, smirking all the while.

The room had grown silent as all men curiously stared at the rock that Vinscent held in his hand, partially covered by its cloth so that his skin did not touch the surface. For that, Link was thankful, he wasn't certain as to what would happen if he touched it. Would it kill him? Would it transform him? Link decided he didn't want to find out.

"Vinscent…" he growled. The man raised his eyebrows.

"What is it, Link? No more threats? Is it because your precious toy is in my hands?"

"You're an ignorant fool, you have no idea what that is or what it's capable of," Link warned, slowly standing to his feet. Arran didn't bother trying to get him to sit back down.

Vinscent pouted his lips, "I don't believe I'm _that _ignorant. After all, this black stone seems to bare a likeness to the twilight realm, does it not? We should know, considering we were shrouded in it for nigh on half a year." The minister paused to hold the rock up into a stream of golden sunlight, the rays reflecting off of its glassy surfaces. "My only question is, what is the hero of Hyrule doing with the dark magic of the Twili— the very thing he set out to vanquish? Tell me, does Princess Zelda know of this?"

"You leave her out of this," he snarled.

Vinscent whistled, "Touchy. Alright then, no more questioning. You've had enough for one day and I believe we all have seen what we need to here." He held out the stone across the table. "Go on, take it. That's what you want isn't it? You must have been so distraught without it."

Link was boiling with rage, red of face with a glare that could strike fear into a young child's heart. He was toying with him, that's all this was. He must know that the stone would do something to him. Surely he couldn't know about the wolf? His eyes danced between the stone and the gaze of the man who held it, every person in the room watched him with bated breath. He heard the wretched call of guays in the distance. The tick of the grand clock on the far wall. His breathing. His blood pumping.

Vinscent leaned forward across the distance and whispered in a voice that should have been humanly impossible to hear, but Link had the ears of a wolf.

And Vinscent Donnelly knew it.

"Tell me, what will our dear princess think when she hears of this detrimental flaw in her hero? That is, considering she's not too busy bedding her future king to give a care."

Then everything went red.

He had struck the minister across the side of his left temple and he was sent reeling backwards towards the wall, but Link was there. There were shouts and hands on his shoulders. His name was screamed over and over but he didn't hear any of it. All he could hear was his heart in his ears and all he could see was the blood on his hands, the color of mulled wine, on Vinscent's blue face, striking over and over.

By some tremendous force, he was lifted off of the man and held back by restraining arms. Vinscent was a cripple on the ground, unmoving. Rhys ran to his side and put a hand on his neck. His eyes were swollen shut, his face black and grey— battered until it was unrecognizable. It was until then that he realized what he had done.

"He's not breathing!" Rhys called out.

Or what it meant.

"Take him!" Someone yelled.

"Throw him in the dungeons!"

"—killed a _minister!_"

"He's an animal—"

"—never have seen a man move that fast."

"A beast!"

He felt himself being drug backwards through the doors and down the corridor. He blinked. Then blinked again. The red was dissipating. They were going to do what with him?

The dungeons?

Stone walls moved past him in a blur. He couldn't focus. Who was taking him? Tapestries, banners, with the insignia of the Triforce and the bird beneath it. More stone. A window. He blinked.

A window.

With a grunt, he threw his weight to the side and he heard someone call out in alarm. He turned again and bucked, flinging his head backwards until it connected with something solid. He felt hands release him on his left arm and he used it to draw his blade. The other pair of hands had let go and he rounded, using his shoulder to connect with someone's skull. They dropped to the ground unconscious. His eyes focused. It had been Godrick.

His gaze shifted towards his remaining captor and when he locked eyes with him, he swallowed. The man prepared to draw his sword.

"Arran, don't," he warned with admonition.

His mouth quivered. "Or what? You'll fight me?"

They stood, unmoving. An eerie quiet filled the air like a room without oxygen, muffled and tight. Then there were distant calls. A clanging of bells. Shouts and footsteps.

"You killed a man, Link. A minister."

He stared, not denying.

"I cannot let you escape, as my duty as a Hylian soldier and the Minister of Hyrule's royal military. Even if you are my lord commander."

Link nodded solemnly, respectfully. "You are an honorable man, Arran Tredony."

He took a step forward and Arran's hand moved closer to the hilt of his sword. More shouts. More footfalls.

"Promise me, Arran. Promise me you'll take care of her."

The commander and the lordling stared at each other and in that moment they were no longer soldiers, heroes, or knights. No longer were they known for their titles, their blood, or their family. Just two men, two friends, pitted against each other by unfortunate circumstances. Unfortunate actions.

"I promise."

Link nodded once then took a breath for his next was through the nose of a wolf as he touched the stone in his pocket and he shrank down half his size. Arran balked and he used his surprise to his advantage as he charged him, leaping onto his chest and sending him sprawling onto the floor. He didn't even have a chance to draw his sword.

The footsteps had arrived and there was more yelling as soldiers spotted him. A wolf loose in the castle, attacking a soldier. It was better than being Link— a killer.

He took off in the other direction, easily outrunning them on all four of his paws, and headed directly for the grand window. The impact didn't hurt as much as it would have in human form, his fur obstructed the shards of glass from cutting him like a shield and his light body was agile enough to twist in the air, landing on a rooftop below. He heard their screams, distant now, as they carried on their search for Link the human and not Link the wolf.

He shook himself, dislodging stray pieces of glass and glanced up at the sky. It would be evening soon.

There was still one stop he had left to make.

* * *

"I said that I'm _fine._ I don't care what he did, he won't hurt me. Now send these guards away."

The older man nodded and with a flick of the wrist, the sentry soldiers left her side. Mechanical, like robots.

"Wolfric, where is Arran now?"

"The infirmary, Your Grace," he replied.

"Can I see him?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid they're not permitting visitors right now, not even from the princess. There are deep gashes along his chest and they sedated him so they could stitch them back up. He should be awake tomorrow."

She nodded.

"…and Vinscent?"

He paused. "Alive. Yet he is in a very precarious state. They're unsure if he'll make it through the night."

She closed her eyes. Cursing herself for taking so long, cursing Link for being so rash, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. Were the signs there? Had she just been too naïve to see them? Was this her fault?

"I grow tired and wish to retire to my chambers. I'll see you on the morrow, Wolfric. I thank you, for everything."

"At least allow me to escort you, Your Grace."

She shook her head. "I told you that I'll be fine. I bid you good night."

Reluctantly, he bowed at the waist and she left him, heading up the back stairwell. As soon as she was alone, tears threatened to spill from her burning eyes but she pursed her lips and kept her face as stoic as always. She would not allow this to break her.

If he were to be caught, he would be brought before her. His fate would be in her hands. If Vinscent died then he would be charged with murder of a noblesman.

Punishable by death.

And she would have to obey that. As Hyrule's princess— as its queen, she could not allow for such weakness to show. She couldn't grant him privileges because he was a hero. Her people would never accept that, nor would they ever respect her.

Carefully, she opened her chamber door and it groaned with a terrible creak that she had come to associate with Zant's lackeys checking in on her during her imprisonment. She closed the door behind her and as soon as it latched shut, she gasped.

"Link?"

There he sat. Nothing but a silhouette in her window. But she knew it was him. She could recognize him anywhere.

He didn't acknowledge her, instead he continued to gaze listlessly out of the open panes of glass, its nighttime breeze sending her curtains into a flurry of dancing satin in the moonlight. His boiled leather and ring mail sang a quiet song in the rustling of the wind.

Hesitantly, she started for him. "Link? What are you doing? It's not safe for you here." She tried again, but his shadow did not stir in response. It wasn't until she had neared him that she noticed the flash of scarlet along his knuckles that were draped over his knee, dripping blue in the nighttime glow. Dread coiled in her gut like a snake and she swallowed hard as she gently touched his fingers.

He turned to her then, his face marred by the twilight. She could see his eyes through the veil of darkness and the sorrow that touched them.

"Link… why?"

Her guard had fallen and in its place the heavy burden of solicitude took up residence.

He didn't answer, instead he stared at her with a sharp gaze, hard and intense. Then slowly, he moved his good hand to brush a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear and left it lingering on her cheek. She closed her eyes, drinking in his touch. It was warm. So very warm.

"You've made it home safely," he spoke simply. His voice was raw with emotion and it cracked, he swallowed thickly. She opened her eyes and nodded.

The air grew still and the last melodies of the birds died away with the light of the sun. The day had come to an end. Everything had become quiet and muffled with nightfall save for the crickets whistling outside the window.

"What… did you decide?" He asked hesitantly. Carefully. He was afraid. Of what? The price on his head? No longer being welcome in the land he had saved? Of her?

She stared at him. At his scars and his wounds. His unshed tears and tortured soul. A hero who no longer had a place in the world. She stared at him until the grief and the pain had become too much. Too much to breathe and to live. Then in a moment of reckless abandon she threw her arms around him, burying her head into the crook of his neck, breathing him and feeling him. Seeking his warmth when the chill of nightmares threatened to freeze her until she was numb.

His calloused hands were holding her, embracing her, saving her. He ran his fingers through her hair, down her back, clutching her trembling shoulders as if she would break apart otherwise. He lowered his head into her hair and dragged her tighter into his arms.

"I was wrong," She sobbed into his tunic, her voice muffled and broken.

He caressed her face and pulled back, looking down upon her and the moonlit tears on her cheeks.

"I can't— I can't stay away from you, Link. You're the only one who understands, who sees the monsters hiding in the shadows, who still hears the screams that echo when you sleep…" she trailed off and looked down, unseeing. Another tear escaped, creating a glowing trail on a mask of darkness. "But now… now what is going to happen? You can't let them find you, you can't… _I can't kill you_," she sobbed.

Link clenched his jaw, desperately trying to fight the sentiment that threatened to overtake him. She saw it in him, what she had already given up fighting. She cried and clutched at him until she felt as though she would die from the grief.

A pair of loons lamented in the distance, their cries haunting and beautiful. A chirp of a cricket. The wind rustled the curtains, eavesdropping. The stars twinkled, staring.

Then he pressed his mouth to hers, desperate and unyielding. He moved a hand to her cheek and brushed away her tears. She didn't resist, she beckoned him closer as she clutched his hair, his neck. He responded with contrite passion, their lips moving in a tandem of sorrow. Using a single hand, he lifted her up and stood from the window sill, circling around until her back was against the wall and her legs were wrapped around his torso. He kept one hand on the small of her back, securing her against his chest and the other propped on the wall alongside her head.

She gasped for breath as his lips left hers and began to trail down her jaw. She closed her eyes and in that moment he consumed her, he erased the monsters and the screams, the darkness and the terror. Everything they had endured, all of the pain and suffering, it had vanished— if only for the moment. She craved him like sunlight on a cold winter's night, like the bliss of sleep, and sweet reprieve of numbness. He held her with a desperate strength, as if to keep her sheltered in the safety of his arms for as long as quiet whispers of dusk would permit it.

He lifted her higher and she let out a soft gasp as his fingers deftly began to entangle themselves with the back of her tied bodice, fervently attempting to unravel the knots. She responded with a claw at his tunic and ringmail that jingled with their frantic movements, pulling it over his head until it landed on the ground in a metallic clatter. With a growl of frustration, he lifted her into his arms once more and carried her over onto the large featherbed where they both fell into a heap of furs and heavy breaths. For a moment, his lips left hers and she was left with staring up at his shadowed silhouette, half-naked in the moon's glow. She had never seen him so ill-clothed and it was the first time she had seen all of the silver scars, some thicker than others, that lined his chest and torso like a second skin. Evidence of where a blade had bitten him, fire singed him, black magic coursed through him. Hesitantly, she reached out with a steady finger and followed a particularly grotesque trail of once mangled flesh that had healed thrice over. She knew the sword that had created such a mutilation. She knew because it had been her own. He allowed her to touch him, and when she met his gaze she saw sadness there. Remorseful guilt that reflected her own.

He carefully took her hand in his own and moved it aside, pinning it down on the cloud of blankets around them and kissed her with such passion, such ardency, that she was without thought. She knew in that moment that she could not live without him, without the safety of his arms and the warmth of his touch. She would do everything in her power to keep him concealed from them. There had to be a way. There _had _to be.

That night, the hero and the princess gave in to the beckoning absolution of unguarded desires, full of aching sorrow, for only the moon and the stars bore witness.

Yes. The moon and stars were quite trustworthy in keeping such intimate secrets.


End file.
